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If we can yet get our end without battle, large shall be my thanks to thee, and I will hold thine astrologer a man wise, though unhappy." "Certes," said De Graville gravely, "it were discourteous to the memory of the star-seer, not to make some effort to prove his science a just one. And the Chaldeans " "Plague seize the Chaldeans!" muttered the Duke.
"Over yon seas, a prince mightier than William, and men as resolute, at least, as your Normans." "Cher et puissant, my Lord Earl," answered De Graville, "these are brave words, but of no weight in the ear of a schemer so deep as the Duke.
The Sire de Graville involuntarily drew off from the Saxon's side, as if made suddenly aware that he had grossly demeaned himself in such unwitting familiarity with a ceorl, and a ceorl's son; and he said, with a much more careless accent and lofty port than before: "Good man, thou wert a ceorl, and now thou leadest Earl Harold's men to the war! How is this? I do not quite comprehend it."
At the momentary discomfiture of the Priest, now stood forth the Warrior; and, throwing back his helmet, so that the whole steel cap rested on the nape of the neck, leaving the haughty face and half-shaven head bare, Mallet de Graville thus spoke: "The ban of the Church is against ye, warriors and chiefs of England, but for the crime of one man!
The accomplished prince was no longer, in truth, what the bold warrior had been, he was greater in state and less in soul. Before the Duke, who was leaning his chin on his hand, stood Mallet de Graville, speaking earnestly, and his discourse seemed both to interest and please his lord. Enough I say, of them. Let us return to Harold, thou thinkest, then, that he is worthy of his fame?"
Great make the danger of the Earl's capture, and vast all the favour of release. Comprehendest thou?" "I am Norman, Monseigneur," replied De Graville, with a slight smile; "and we Normans can make a short mantle cover a large space. You will not be displeased with my address."
"Friendly Sir," said the Sire de Graville, seeking to subdue the tone of irony habitual to him, and acquired, perhaps, from his maternal ancestry, the Franks.
"Here we shall learn," said Sexwolf, "what the Earl is about and here, at present, ends my journey." "Are these the Earl's headquarters, then? no castle, even of wood no wall, nought but ditch and palisades?" asked Mallet de Graville in a tone between surprise and contempt. "Norman," said Sexwolf, "the castle is there, though you see it not, and so are the walls.
Bruse reeled on his saddle; the dread right hand of D'Aumale fell lopped by the axe; De Graville, hurled from his horse, rolled at the feet of Harold; and William, borne by his great steed and his colossal strength into the third rank there dealt, right and left, the fierce strokes of his iron club, till he felt his horse sinking under him and had scarcely time to back from the foe scarcely time to get beyond reach of their weapons, ere the Spanish destrier, frightfully gashed through its strong mail, fell dead on the plain.
Now, though Mallet de Graville had lent himself to the service of an ignoble craft, he justified it by a better reason than complaisance to his lords; for, knowing William well, his hasty ire, and his relentless ambition, he was really alarmed for Harold's safety.
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